


Golden War

by AleishaDreams



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Splash Free, Angst, M/M, Revolutionary War, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleishaDreams/pseuds/AleishaDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only those brave enough challenge the night, those who hold their heart in their own hands and aren’t scared of the shadows that lure and hunt in the corners of the city.</p><p>All of this is perfect for him, who must obey orders given by His Highness directly. He who walks between blinks, behind the dark curtain of slumber of the inhabitants of the kingdom, with a single thought inside the pool of his mind.</p><p>Kill him.</p><p>He must, and he will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Mienaihane](https://twitter.com/mienaihane) for beta'ing.

The wind is cold, as always, the sky is black, as always, and the silence feels welcoming, as always.

The roads and alleys of this vast city are empty, not a single pair of eyes or a curious soul floating in the air in search for adventure in the middle of the night. Silence and darkness are the only dancers to this cold waltz that no one else dares to interrupt because they are afraid of angering the nature, the sky, but mainly, of angering the Sultan of this land full of golden sand.

Only those brave enough challenge the night, those who hold their heart in their own hands and aren’t scared of the shadows that lure and hunt in the corners of the city.

All of this is perfect for him, who must obey orders given by His Highness directly. He who walks between blinks, behind the dark curtain of slumber of the inhabitants of the kingdom, with a single thought inside the pool of his mind.

Kill him.

He must, and he will.

Because He, His Sultan, the one to whom he pledged honor, obedience and servitude ordered him to. Don’t question anything, don’t think about anything else, just do it because that’s why you were trained for all those years ago.

To obey, and to follow.

The dark figure jumps from roof to roof, silent and agile like a serpent undulating, swimming, through the hot sand when the sun is up in the blue sky, looking for its prey to feast and to survive.

His only companion is his dagger, resting peacefully in his thigh but waiting excitedly to be unleashed for the night to be bathed in the red color of life. This dagger is enough, it always is, it has been since the day the Sultan honored him giving it as a gift for his trusted and perfect work as one of the best assassins in the kingdom.

The moon hides behind a thick, dark cloud – which only gives promises of water but never delivers – as if the astral body knows what is about to happen and doesn’t want to witness such human action.

It doesn’t matter to him. It only makes his job easier.

He arrives to the destined house, a two-story building with tiny windows covered with cloth that disguises the candle light coming from inside. The tall man kneels in the roof of a house some meters away from his target, silently observing and not moving a muscle. Something moves inside the building and his eyes shimmer.

Kill him.

He must, and he will.

Unsheathing his white dagger, the man hops and runs with silent feet to the building in question, escalating to the window he saw movement from. He rests his feet in one of the wooden joists coming out of the wall, and uses the tip of his dagger to slightly move aside the curtain to be able to see inside the room.

A man is in there. He’s tall, with brown skin and black hair, he’s wearing black clothes and jewels. It seems he’s reading something out of a parchment, really concentrated.

The assassin looks around the room. The target is alone.

Silent, as always, careful, as always, and adamant, as always, the assassin climbs inside the room preparing his dagger on his right hand.

A single blow is all he needs, a single thrust of his deadly dagger right between the shoulder blades to kill this man, have the work done and go back to His Sultan in the palace.

The target suddenly turns around as if he had detected the other soul in the room, fast and with a precise punch that the assassin barely dodges stepping back. The target doesn’t linger much for his next move, giving a quick low kick intended to make the assassin lose balance; he dodges that too with ease.

Not giving up, the black-haired man takes his own dagger from his belt sheath, ready to defend himself to death.

It’s not the first time his targets resist, but it’s the first time the target looks like he knows what he’s doing.

Still, the assassin is much stronger and bigger than the target, and he will use that to his advantage. He throws a punch to the target’s face but, as the assassin had suspected, the man ducks that with a quick and agile jump to the back. Rapidly, the assassin kicks the target’s feet as he’s landing from his jump, making him fall with a loud thud to the hard floor on his back.

The assassin quickly grabs the target’s right hand holding the dangerous dagger and snatches it away with force, throwing the blade to the other side of the room. It’s all done in a matter of seconds, and soon the assassin has his knee on the target’s stomach with a strong push to make him breathless.

A single blow is all he needs, a single thrust of his deadly dagger right in the heart to kill this man.

“Haru!”

He hears suddenly from behind, but before he can move a stinging pain explodes down his back, as the warm and red blood tries to escape his body immediately.

The assassin stands up and turns around to be met with another man: brown hair, brown skin, standing as tall as he in green robes. The man looks angry and ready to attack again, but his hands are empty. The assassin tries to stab the man in front of him but his right arm doesn’t respond to his command.

It feels numb.

He looks to his shoulder and finds the target’s dagger in there, buried to the hilt inside his body and the blood continuing to smear his clothes.

He has to run away.

Fast as he always has been, the assassin runs towards the window, jumping through it to the welcoming darkness of the night.

For a second, he can hear the man in green robes call again the target’s name.

“Haru, Haru!”

The assassin runs and runs, feeling his right arm grow colder and colder with each step he takes.

He has to get to the palace, he has to go back to the palace, he has to.

 

His name is Sousuke, and he is the Sultan’s best assassin.

 

“Open the doors! Mr. Sousuke has come back!”

The loud guard yells to the gatekeepers that promptly follow the order with curious faces and questions in their heads.

Sousuke enters, feeling weak and lightheaded, his breath is ragged against the cloth covering his mouth and nose. A tall man of brown skin, red glasses, and purple eyes comes to his aid; he’s wearing a purple vest with intricate golden designs. Sousuke recognizes him as one of the main gatekeepers.

“Mr. Sousuke!” the man calls him as soon as his eyes get fixed on him.

This man knows his name but Sousuke doesn’t know his. It’s not that strange as Sousuke is one of the best guarded secrets of the royal family. Everyone in the palace knows about him, about that mysterious man that sometimes goes out of the palace in the middle of the night when no one is around to see him, but not everyone knows what his job is. Only those who are closest to the Sultan know about how much blood there is between Sousuke’s fingers.

From there, Sousuke doesn’t remember with exact detail what happened. He remembers the gatekeeper calling for help, he remembers being taken to the palace’s medics, and he remembers burning pain in all of his body until he finally passed out.

  


Warmth caresses his cheeks, lips and closed eyelids. His eyes flutter as he slowly opens them. His sight is blurry and he can’t differentiate shapes and forms for a moment until he finally focuses in a purple cushion lying far on the floor.

He recognizes this room as his personal chamber. A small room of four walls with a single window that lets the sunlight enter directly to Sousuke’s face. Not a lot of furniture is in there, just a bunk with his clothes, the bed he’s currently resting on, a simple chair and a simple table in a corner are everything Sousuke possesses in this life.

Sousuke tries to move and sit down, but regrets it when pain travels down his back in a second, his head falling again in the bed.

He was stabbed last night.

His breath is even and deep, trying to calm himself down.

He had to run away last night.

But his lungs don’t obey him, demanding more air, breathing hastily.

He **failed** last night.

Sousuke covers his face with his left hand, closing his teal eyes and drowning a sob in the depths of his throat.

His perfect record is lost. Not only he failed his mission, but he left alive two witnesses – the target and the other man – that now know someone is trying to get rid of the target. How will this affect future missions? What consequences will this failure have? Will the target escape?

What if the Sultan is mad?

Sousuke opens his eyes at the realization that his own life is in danger. The Sultan is surely mad, blind with anger because of this failed mission, mainly because the importance of this mission in particular was grand.

Haruka, the target, is the leader of a rebellion movement that is just beginning but the Sultan doesn’t want to take any chances. For what Sousuke knows, Haruka is a citizen born in this city that went away in a trip to God knows where but that came back to the kingdom about a year ago, with ideas of freedom and equality for everyone.

The kingdom is in the middle of a hot desert, its sands are burning and merciless to those who dare go out of the tall walls. Water has become a luxury with the drought, and nowadays the distribution of water has been scarce to almost null, the huge majority of it reserved for the Royal Family and the palace.

Whatever Sousuke thinks of that, it doesn’t matter, because he is property of the Royal Family and he will do as he is told. That is if the Sultan doesn’t sentence him to death because of his failure. Or maybe he will be just exiled? The thought brings hope to Sousuke’s heart, but his analytical mind knows very well that the possibilities are null. He knows too much about every dirty and dark business the Sultan has done; the smell of blood covers him entirely and it has become his natural scent.

His teal eyes travel to the tiny window, to the blue sky and the bright light of the sun. What time is it? How many days have passed since he lost consciousness? Who has been taking care of him?

The questions are interrupted when the door opens suddenly, showing a middle-aged woman of light skin and brown eyes, her hair is covered with a cloth, and she looks surprised to see him awake. She’s carrying a jug and a porcelain bowl, with a small piece of cloth hanging from her arm.

“Mr. Sousuke! You’re awake!” the woman says. Again, someone knows his name but he doesn’t know theirs. “I’m so glad. I was starting to get worried.”

The woman walks inside the room, closing the door behind her with a soft tap of her foot, and directs herself to the desk to place the jar and the bowl in there; all of this under Sousuke’s careful supervision. He remembers seeing occasionally this woman around the palace, although he doesn’t know what her function is to the royal family, perhaps a simple maid or a nurse of some sorts.

“If I had known you were awake, I would have brought you something to eat. Don’t worry, I’ll bring some bread and water for you later.”

She then grabs the jar and pours water to the white porcelain bowl, the transparent, clear liquid making a pleasant sound along with it. When the bowl is partially full, she picks it up and walks to the bed, placing it in the floor next to the bed, to finally drag the chair also to the bed. Her brown eyes meet the teal ones.

“I need to remove your clothes, Mr. Sousuke,” she says, her smile soft and kind of apologetic.

He nods and lets her do her job. He’s wearing a simple rob with simple pants that he recognizes as his sleeping attire, made of white cotton. The small hands of the woman takes the rob by the hem, and with extreme care she pulls it off of Sousuke’s body, the pants are also removed and soon he’s completely naked.

Sousuke sees the bandages covering his shoulder where the wound is and part of his right chest. The woman starts to slowly remove the bandages – that aren’t as red as Sousuke had expected – with a little of Sousuke’s help. Under the white bandages lies his wound, red with angry irritation, but with a perfectly done stitch with black thread sealing the opening, meaning that the dagger completely passed through his body. Another scar to add to the collection that marks his brown skin.

The damp towel feels fresh as it touches Sousuke’s skin, first his arm that the woman picks up, his chest, his abdomen, his legs, and finally his face.

“I’ll clean your wound now,” his companion announces, “If it hurts too much, please tell me, Mr. Sousuke.”

It stings when the towel touches the wound, the pain traveling up and down in his still numb arm, but Sousuke doesn’t say anything about it. He just clenches his jaw and takes it.

After that, the woman bandages him again and helps him get dressed.

“Would you like me to help you shave?” she asks, and Sousuke nods.

She gets up and goes to the bunk, where his small knife is in a box – maybe the woman checked his stuff previously to dress him when he was out – and comes back with it and a piece of soap. She changes the water pouring the used liquid through the window.

The fragrant foam of the soap invades his nose when the woman passes her soaped hands on his cheeks and chin. The stub isn’t that bad, so the woman has probably been shaving him while he was sleeping. With delicate movements, she shaves him with the knife, moving his head with soft fingers in his chin when necessary. Her face is neutral in deep concentration, careful of not missing a single spot until she finally finishes.

“You’ve been unconscious for a whole week,” she says, throwing away the dirty water through the window. “For a moment we all thought you weren’t going to make it, Mr. Sousuke.”

Does that include the Sultan?

“I’ll tell the medics you have woken up, and I’ll bring you something easy to eat after that.”

The woman takes the now empty jar and bowl, with the wet towel inside the latter. With a little bow she leaves the room, saying a soft, “Farewell, Mr. Sousuke.”

Finding himself alone again, his thoughts travel in a second to his wound. He’s been out for a whole week, and he has been attended and taken care of. These are good news, because that means the Sultan isn’t planning to get rid of him – yet – any time soon, but it still leaves a sour taste in his tongue and an uncomfortable pull at the base of his stomach.

He turns his face to his shoulder. He can’t see the wound under his clothes but he can feel it pulsating, burning and mad, only covered by the thin layer of bandage. How the pain hadn’t awakened him before is a mystery, because it hurts loud and hot. He tries to move his fingers to no avail, only receiving pain in exchange that he swallows immediately – even if he’s completely alone –.

A sense of panic lashes in his chest like thunder, burning his heart like a mere tree. A weak, pitiful and solitary tree in the middle of nothing.

What if his wound never gets better? What if his arm becomes completely useless? What purpose would his life have if it isn’t to serve the Sultan with his own hands?

Of course, he can learn everything again with his left arm, but the accuracy wouldn’t be the same no matter how many years he practices. Besides, there’s no time for that. If the Sultan decided to keep him alive for the time being, it’s because His Highness has the hope of Sousuke making a full recovery and, knowing how demanding the Sultan can be, it’d better be sooner than later.

If he can’t completely heal for the Sultan, death is probably what awaits for Sousuke.

The door opens again to reveal a group of old men with long white beards. It’s the team of medics that Sousuke knows well enough, they are always the same taking care of him whenever he comes back wounded from a mission. He doesn’t know their names.

The group of medics makes the usual questions about his health, makes the usual revisions of his body, and gives the verdict that Sousuke should be able to walk in a few days – if the pain has diminished enough – but when the young man asks about his arm, the old men just shares looks and stares between them. Sousuke feels the uncomfortable pull on his stomach.

“As you know, Mr. Sousuke, it’s a very delicate wound,” the oldest man of the group starts to talk, his hands fretting nervously. “The weapon used against you was a large dagger. It even passed through your shoulder.”

Sousuke already knows all of that. He just wants his question to be answered.

“We did everything we could,” the medic continues. “The surgery lasted almost all night until we finally managed to control the blood loss and stitched the open wounds, at your back and your front shoulder.”

Sousuke doesn’t care about any of that He just wants his question to be answered.

“Whoever attacked you wanted to make sure they did a good job.”

Here it comes.

“It saddens us, the body of medics, to tell you that your arm won’t function as well as before, Mr. Sousuke.”

That’s it.

Whatever the medic continues saying, Sousuke isn’t listening anymore. He even closes his eyes to pretend he’s alone with his empty thoughts. Only single words reach his ears every now and then, “movement”, “nerves”, “blood”, “dagger”, and a lot of other nonsense that Sousuke stopped caring long ago.

He doesn’t realize when the medics go away, deep inside the darkness of his teal eyes, but the female voice calling his name makes him open them.

“Mr. Sousuke,” the same woman that bathed him says with a soft voice and a more apologetic smile, she’s carrying a tray with a plate full of food. “I brought you some bread and cheese. Do you want me to feed you?”

Sousuke simply nods.

 

* * *

 

  


A week passes in the blink of an eye. Sousuke doesn’t go out of his room for nothing and his only visitor is the woman who takes care of him. He’s able to sit, stand up, and walk inside the four walls of his room. His arm is still unresponsive but the pain has, at least, receded.

In this past week, he has been thinking about his future. What future awaits for him when the Sultan gets the news of his now useless assassin? Will he be sentenced to death? How will he be killed? By poison, perhaps, or maybe he will be hung from his neck. Maybe his stomach wouldn’t hurt so badly if only he knew how he would die.

In the second week of his isolation, he’s called to an audience with the Sultan.

“What robe would you like to wear for your audience, Mr. Sousuke?” the woman of brown eyes – that Sousuke doesn’t know her name – asks him as she places various robes over the bed for Sousuke to see and choose.

He doesn’t have a lot of clothes, and the ones he has are pretty much simple in comparison to what anyone else in the palace dresses. Plus, he doesn’t care.

“I think this would look amazing on you, Mr. Sousuke, if I say so myself,” she points to a purple robe with white thread in the hems. The cloth shines against the light. Sousuke guesses this is the fanciest robe he has, and might as well wear it for the Sultan.

The woman helps him get dressed in a moment.

The walk to the throne room is a long, solitary one. He already knows where it is, but it feels strange to be walking in the palace’s corridors after being secluded for half a month in his room. The maids and servants look at him with curious eyes, some of them whisper between them, and suddenly Sousuke is really conscious of himself.

His right arm isn’t moving at all.

He tries to ignore it before his mind goes rapidly beyond his reasoning, to drag him into a pit of dark pain.

“Mr. Sousuke.”

It’s his name what, one more time, takes him back from that place where he gets lost inside his head. He’s in front of the door to the throne room, unnecessarily huge, with bright colors of yellow and royal blue, and touches of gold to show off the family’s wealth. Two guards are standing to each side of the door, and both of them are looking at him.

“Mr. Sousuke,” the guard repeats. Sousuke doesn’t know the name of this man. “The Sultan is waiting for you.”

With that final word, the guards open the heavy door to give him access.

The huge room receives him, with its tall roof and just as tall columns of white marble to the sides of the place, wide windows let the sunlight pass, and in the middle of the room runs a red carpet with golden thread that shows the way to the farthest wall to where the throne is. The throne is as huge as everything else, made of dark mahogany that shimmers against the light coming from the windows.

Sitting in there, the Sultan is waiting for him.

The door closes behind him with a gentle shut, prompting him to start walking towards His Majesty. The Sultan isn’t alone, he’s accompanied by His advisor and the most important members of the court. Sousuke has done jobs in the obscure night for each one of them multiple times. He doesn’t know any of their names.

He kneels as soon as he’s in front of the Sultan, his head turned down.

“Your Highness,” he says. His voice feels so unfamiliar.

“Sousuke,” the Sultan corresponds.

The Sultan is an old man, tiny wrinkles threatening to appear next to his eyes and his cheeks aren’t as plump as they must have been in past days, he’s fat with a big belly in front of him, and a long black beard that has been spotted with white hairs. He always wears the highest quality robes, with the more expensive fabrics, and the heaviest gold jewelry with the most amazing gems encrusted. He took the role of a Ruler when the previous Sultan, his father, offered his last breath of life to the sky and, being the oldest son of ten, the title corresponded to the current Sultan.

“I have received the news that you failed your last mission, Sousuke,” the Sultan says, and his words feel like cold water in Sousuke’s body. His wound burns out of nowhere.

“That’s right, Your Highness. I failed.”

Excuses and explanations wouldn’t make a difference with the Sultan, because this man doesn’t know how the world of the dark works.

“Do you know what this means, Sousuke?”

Sousuke can imagine the Sultan playing with his beard, looking at him as if Sousuke was a mere sick horse that no longer works properly and has to be put down.

“Yes, Sultan.”

Sousuke closes his eyes and bears himself to receive the sentence, the words that will take away his last breath.

“I’m glad, Sousuke,” the Sultan says, sounding almost bored, “I’m sure you know this means I should sentence you to death.”

“Yes, Sultan.”

“I mean, it would be far too dangerous to have you around. Don’t you think, Sousuke?”

“Of course, Sultan.”

A heavy sigh is heard, a type of sigh that comes from the stomach and not from the lungs, before the Sultan continues talking, “But…“

Sousuke opens his eyes but doesn’t dare look at the Sultan. “But”?

“Someone dear to me has convinced me of not executing you.”

Teal eyes immediately travel to the old man sitting in the throne;, next to him stands a young man of cocky grin. Red eyes that burn with life as fire, red hair that flows long down to his chin, skin light as it is not touched by the sun, expensive robes and golden jewelry with gems dressing him.

“I’m sure you know my son, Sousuke.”

“Prince Rin,” the assassin says in a whisper.

Sousuke knows his name.

“Prince Rin has requested you as his private guardian,” the Sultan keeps talking, Sousuke barely processing the voice inside his head. “I don’t understand why, taking into consideration that you’re pretty much useless as of now.”

The dark eyes of the Sultan travel to his unmoving arm, not even trying to disguise the disappointment in his face.

“The medics said he would regain movement, father,” the Prince says, his voice is jovial and somewhat hasty, words going out of his lips quickly because he talks without any doubt in his heart. “It’s a matter of time for him to be himself again, maybe not completely, but still useful.”

Sousuke perhaps should feel offended for how the Sultan and the Prince are talking about him as if he weren’t present at the moment, but he doesn’t care right now, feeling lost between the crimson color of his eyes and his hair.

He has seen the Price multiple times around the palace, along with his younger sister the Princess and a young blond boy, always surrounded by various guards and most of the time looking absolutely bored unless he challenges one of the guards to do something – almost always – ridiculous. But besides that, besides the outer image of the elegant Prince, Sousuke doesn’t know anything about him. Always observing him from afar, Sousuke only knows what the other personnel of the palace sometimes says about the Prince.

Sometimes the maids say the Prince is too demanding, almost bordering on spoiled, but that’s not a surprise to anyone when the redhead is precisely the Prince.

Sousuke is used to action, to walk and run through the shadows of the night to stain his hands with blood of people he knows nothing about, to kill, and to survive. He isn’t going to lie and say he’s comfortable with the idea of being assigned as a guardian, even if it’s the Prince’s, because he isn’t sure if he’s capable of such tranquil – and probably boring – duty.

“I asked the medics myself,” the young voice of the Prince says. “And they say that this man can recover his arm’s mobility if he does some exercises and such. Isn’t that right?”

The Prince’s hair flows when he turns around to look at the group of medics that Sousuke hadn’t noticed before. The old men look nervous, unsure if they should answer to the Prince question, probably because they are afraid of the Sultan’s response to them.

In the end, the head of the group of medics starts talking, “Yes, my Prince. It may take a few months, but I’m sure—“

“You see, father?” the Prince interrupts, looking at the Sultan with a smile. He has sharpened teeth. “Just a few months!”

The Sultan doesn’t answer, instead of that he closes his eyes, playing with his long beard and humming hoarsely.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so insistent with this,” the Sultan finally responds. “But alright, son, you may have as you wish.”

His Highness opens his eyes, looking intently at Sousuke who feels like his throat is clogged.

“From this day on, you’re assigned as the Prince’s personal guardian. You will be under the medics’ care to recover your arm.”

The Prince smiles, “Thank you, my Sultan. I’m—“

“But,” this time is the Sultan who interrupts, the Prince immediately closing his lips. Sousuke can see the fire in the Prince’s eyes burn with more force. “But, if something happens to the Prince, or if I’m told that you aren’t fulfilling your duty as you should, Sousuke, I’m going to change my decision and execute you.”

The Prince’s fists tighten.

“Is that clear, Sousuke?” the Sultan asks, an eyebrow arches and his forehead shows wrinkles full of age.

Sousuke looks at the Sultan, but soon his teal eyes are attracted to the crimson ones. The Prince is looking at him, he isn’t smiling anymore. Sousuke gulps.

“Yes, my Sultan.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and how this story commence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been six months since the Sultan assigned Sousuke to be the Prince’s personal guardian. Sousuke still hasn’t started to fulfill his duty because he is following the medics’ routine of exercises for his arm. It’s painful and Sousuke sometimes finds himself praying for it to end soon, but, at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end because that means he must give his services to the Prince with the hair of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit what up
> 
> I don't rly have a reason or anything for stopping writing. It was simply a writer's block that I'm still not sure is over yet.
> 
> At any case, I miss writing and I hope updating this stale old fic does something.
> 
> un-beta'd.

Time is just like the desert.

It seems to be eternal, just mountains and mountains of golden dust that doesn’t move. It always looks the same; no matter how many times someone closes their eyes to allow the sand to be free. But the desert, just as time, moves silently, carefully, with tiny waves that the soft gusts of wind provides. And sometimes, just as time, the desert simply explodes with sand storms that will consume and eat up anything that dares to challenge its power.

Time, just as nature, is unpredictable.

Sometimes time loves to run wild and carefree, making the sun and the moon come up and down in the sky without any regards. And sometimes time loves to crawl, making the humans’ hearts cringe in desperation.

But, sometimes, humans don’t know how to feel about time.

It’s been six months since the Sultan assigned Sousuke to be the Prince’s personal guardian. Sousuke still hasn’t started to fulfill his duty because he is following the medics’ routine of exercises for his arm. It’s painful and Sousuke sometimes finds himself praying for it to end soon, but, at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end because that means he must give his services to the Prince with the hair of fire.

Sousuke is honestly grateful towards the Prince, being the young man the one who saved his skin from execution, but the idea of becoming someone’s guardian still makes Sousuke feel strange. It feels as if he was demoted into something less important, as if he was tossed aside because he is now useless for his main purpose – serving the Sultan. Besides, he had thought that the Prince would already have a guardian, as that would be the natural thing, but Sousuke knows better than to question the royal family’s decisions.

Even though the medics have told Sousuke that his right arm is improving in function and mobility, he decided long ago to start training his left arm. In the army they are taught to fight with both arms, but Sousuke irresponsibly neglected his left arm as time passed. These are the consequences of his careless acts.  

He hasn’t seen the Prince since that day in the audience before the Sultan. At least not personally, because the Son of the Desert – as the people in town calls him sometimes – continues to parade himself all around the palace with his sister and the blonde man. He challenges the guards to do ridiculous acts against him, such as standing on their hands the longest, or in races.

The Prince always wins.

In these six months, Sousuke’s mind always wanders to that fateful night when he failed his mission. He wonders what happened to that mission. Was it assigned to someone else? Did the target escape? Did the revolution stop? Since the beginning Sousuke didn’t know much about the subject; everything told to him was that he had to kill the target.

By the seventh month of his rehabilitation, the medics finally deem Sousuke as able to work again, but with warnings of not exerting himself too much. That should be easy enough. The Prince rarely leaves the palace and therefore Sousuke won’t have to be on constant guard, considering that the palace’s security body is one of the best Sousuke has ever seen. In all the years Sousuke has lived inside the castle, not once has he witnessed an intruder inside the tall walls. It’s all thanks to the head security guard, some guy of orange hair that Sousuke – as usual – doesn’t remember his name.

Sousuke didn’t belong to the security body when he was an assassin because he received direct orders from the Sultan, and now that he is the Prince’s personal bodyguard he still isn’t. He won’t have to follow any order besides the Prince’s, unless the King starts to order him again, and he must confess he is a little afraid of having to pass the rest of his working days accepting the Prince’s ridiculous challenges.

He is in his chambers, with a knife in his right hand and using a small mirror to shave his face. Today is the first day Sousuke will present himself before the Prince, offering his services, and one of the maids told him the night before to make himself “presentable”. He was given him a brand new robe that will identify him as the Prince’s personal guardian. He also will have to wear some golden wristbands, which have an engraved image of a sun cut in half as a symbol of the raising Prince – the King’s symbol is a full sun. This is to show Sousuke is a property of the Prince.

After washing his face, he grabs the wristbands and mindlessly puts them on. They are made of gold, bright, heavy, and elegant, and are long enough to almost reach his elbows. He uses the little leather straps on them to tightly secure the wristbands. Deeming himself ready, Sousuke grabs his trusty dagger and hangs it in his belt.

He was told to meet the Prince in the royal chambers as soon as the sun is out. Supposedly, the Prince will be up and ready to go to… do whatever the Prince does with his life.

The corridors are almost empty because the sun is barely going up; just a few maids walk from here to there to get ready for the new day. If the staff notices Sousuke, they decide to ignore him. Honestly, the man prefers it that way.

It’s no surprise that the palace is huge, with thousands of rooms, corridors, halls, etcetera – it’s a miracle by itself that Sousuke hasn’t gotten lost in here before. In the front part of the palace are the public rooms, the rooms for royal parties, the courtroom, and the throne room. In the back part of the palace, however, is where the private rooms are, including the royal chambers, the royal treasury, and so on. The palace itself is surrounded by a humongous garden full of exotic trees, bushes, flowers, and even some animals brought from faraway lands. And beyond that are, of course, the tall walls protecting everything. All of the palace’s staff lives inside of it, in a special area reserved only for them.

When Sousuke finally arrives to the Prince’s chambers, he is surprised to see two guards at the door, standing tall there with their threatening swords hanging from their thighs. As soon as they see Sousuke, they straighten up and become tense.

“Good morning, Mr. Sousuke!” The guardians greet them in unison.

It’s a weird feeling. People for some reason respect him way too much for someone who doesn’t even talk to anyone, for someone who probably they don’t know what his previous duty was. All they know is that Sousuke used to be someone really important for the Sultan’s work, and therefore must be respected.

“I’m here to meet the Prince,” Sousuke announces.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sousuke,” one of the guardians replies, “But the Prince isn’t ready yet.”

Sousuke arches an eyebrow, confused. He was told to be there when the sun rose.

“But he will be soon,” the other guardian promptly assures, his voice a little too shaky, “We just have to wait to—“

But his words are interrupted when the mahogany door opens by itself, making both guardians jolt a little in their places. Nonetheless, the door doesn’t reveal the Prince.

“Ah! So early!”

It’s the man of blond hair and magenta eyes that always accompanies the Prince, looking at Sousuke between both content and impressed. Sousuke returns the gaze, surprised to find the blonde man in there. Looking at him more carefully, the man looks younger than he probably is because of his lean figure and baby-face features.

The blonde walks outside the room, closing the door behind him, but his magenta eyes doesn’t look away from Sousuke; curiosity evident in the shimmer those orbs reflect.

“My name is Nagisa,” the man says with a wide grin, “I’m the Prince’s concubine. Nice to meet you.”

Nagisa elegantly bows before Sousuke, making a show of the fancy outfit he is wearing.

“My Prince is ready to receive you, Mr. Sousuke,” Nagisa adds, winking at him. Sousuke’s stomach lurches.

It’s then that Sousuke notices two golden wristbands on the blonde’s wrists, both with a half sun engraved. Something about it makes his stomach twist harder.

Of course it isn’t strange for the Prince to have a concubine – it practically is the norm –, in fact the Sultan has a room full of them. Now that Sousuke thinks about it, it’s strange for the Prince to have only one concubine. Sousuke would understand having a favorite, but to only have one is odd.

Whatever, it’s not like Sousuke has any word on it.

After bowing, the two guards escort Nagisa out of there, leaving Sousuke alone in the corridor in front of the door. No sense in delaying the inevitable. Letting go a last sigh, Sousuke knocks on the door.

“Come on in!” A voice resounds from inside.

With the permission given, Sousuke slowly opens the door. The room, as expected, is huge and tall, with elegant furniture and expensive cloths hanging from the ceiling. There are multiple divans adorned with pillows, three full-body mirrors in a corner with a vanity table, and a ridiculously big bed in the middle of all of this regal paraphernalia, surrounded by translucent red fabrics. Sousuke is expecting to find the Prince still lying around in the bed, but is surprised when the man of red hair is standing there to receive him, already dressed and refreshed.

“I see you are early!” The Prince says, crossing his arms and smiling, “That’s good, that’s good. That means you are responsible.”

If the Prince is all set already, that means he probably woke up before the sunrise. That would explain why the concubine also looked refreshed.

Sousuke kneels, his head low, to greet the Prince. “Good morning, my Prince. I am at your service.”

“Excellent. I still have to eat breakfast yet, so we will go to the dining room and eat.”

Without waiting for Sousuke, the Prince exits the room. The guardian has to be quick to follow him, a little annoyed already with the Prince’s attitude. Unlike in the morning when Sousuke was walking alone through the corridors, now all the maids stop their steps to bow before the Prince, greeting him – and not Sousuke – but the Prince doesn’t pay any attention to them.

They quickly arrive to the small private dining room, where the delicious scent of food already travels through the air. A group of maids greet the Prince with a “Good morning, Prince!” at the same time, but – again – the man ignores them to sit down in what it seems to be his favorite cushion. The food is promptly served before the Prince without a word. First a plate of fatayer, different sauces made of olive oil with herbs, pitta, various jams of numerous fruits, and all of it accompanied by herbal tea.

For a moment, Sousuke thinks the Prince won’t be able to eat everything, but it’s proven otherwise when even the last crumb of bread disappears. The Prince looks satisfied, patting his stomach contently.

“Has the Princess come yet?” The Prince asks suddenly to no one in particular, taking his cup of tea with delicate and jeweled fingers.

“No, my Prince, she hasn’t,” the oldest maid answers. The Prince clicks his tongue, clearly annoyed.

“That Gou…” Sousuke is able to hear the Prince murmur.

If the Prince is a mystery for Sousuke, the Princess is simply impossible. Sousuke doesn’t know anything about the royal siblings, so he doesn’t know how their relationship works. He guesses they get along, taking into consideration they spend most of the day together – and the concubine – but that also could be only in the exterior.

“Alright, that’s it!” The Prince suddenly stands up, slamming his hands on the table. “Sousuke, we are going for the Princess!”

Again without waiting for Sousuke, the Prince storms off the room quickly. Sousuke silently grunts, getting his nerves bothered because of the random decisions of the Prince. Is this going to be Sousuke’s life from now on? He almost wishes the Prince hadn’t saved his destiny.

They get before the Princess’ door in no time, being guarded by two men with the royal uniform just as the Prince’s door was earlier that morning. Both guards bow to the Prince, greeting him, but he doesn’t pay any attention to them, opening the door without even knocking.

“Gou!” The Prince calls the Princess.

Sousuke’s steps stop at the doorframe, not really sure if he should enter to the Princess’ room without permission. Then again, his duty is to guard the Prince, and that should include the Princess’ chamber, wouldn’t it? He steps inside, discovering that the room is practically the same as the Prince’s, but adorned with pots and flowers that Sousuke recognizes are from the palace’s gardens.

The Prince is on the bed, hidden by the translucent cloths surrounding the cushion, and fighting a ball of something that Sousuke, guesses, is the Princess.

“Get up, Gou! Don’t be lazy!” The Prince reprimands.

“Go away, brother!” A second voice yells back.

Sousuke feels so out of place.

After multiple kicks and yells, the Princess finally gets up with a really angry face and disheveled hair.

“Why should I wake up so early in the first place?” The Princess complains, using one of the sheets from her bed as a cape.

“Because the sun is up, Gou,” the Prince replies, with his arms crossed. “You should make it worth.”

The Princess simply grunts, looking away to Sousuke’s way. Her eyes widen when she sees him, most likely because she hadn’t realized he was there since the beginning.

“Is that—“

“Yes, he is,” the Prince interrupts the girl, cocky. “This is Sousuke, my new personal bodyguard.”

The girl doesn’t say anything, but her red eyes travel down Sousuke’s body until they reach the golden wristbands. Sousuke fights back the reflex to hide his arms behind him. The Princess closes her eyes, yawning while covering her mouth with a hand.

“Now that you have awaken me before the maids, you, brother, will have to call them for me,” the Princess dictates.

“I am the Prince, why would I obey you?” The Prince retorts, arching an eyebrow.

“Because if you don’t, I will tell the Sultan who broke his favorite base all those years ago.”

“Alright, alright! I will call them.”

The Princess smiles, victorious, and when the Prince turns around to exit the room, she lies down the bed again.

Sousuke follows the Prince.

As said, the Prince calls the maids to help prepare the Princess for the day. After that, both the Prince and Sousuke go to the gardens. The Prince seemingly interested in the botany of the plants as he studies them. Sometimes the Prince whispers something to himself, which Sousuke doesn’t hear as he isn’t that close to him. He is studying some flowers when the blonde concubine arrives, being followed by two guardians, but the man doesn’t go immediately to the Prince, standing next to Sousuke.

The little man doesn’t say anything at first, going back and forth on his heels.

“The Prince is really interested in studying the plants,” the concubine comments, “He does it every day.”

It’s a strange hobby for a Prince, Sousuke guesses. The bodyguard would have thought the Prince would rather enjoy other type of hobbies, like counting his treasures. When the Prince stands up, the concubine frolics to him while calling him; the redhead turns around, smiling to the blonde man. As in on cue, the Princess arrives also accompanied by the two guards from earlier. The Princess slaps her brother on the shoulder, reprimanding him for the brusque waking up from the morning.

The rest of the guards stand next to Sousuke, all of them paying attention to the trio, but giving them space.

Both the Princess and the concubine have royal guardians from the royal army, which isn’t odd, but the surprising thing is that the Prince doesn’t. Does that mean that Sousuke is his first guardian?

Looking at his partners, Sousuke discovers none of the guardians is wearing wristbands like him.

Sousuke frowns. What does that mean exactly? Why does Sousuke wear those things just like the concubine? Does that mean Sousuke is on the same level as the blonde? For some reason, the idea makes him feel ill.

“Guardians!”

The Prince’s voice makes everyone jolt. He is smiling widely, showing his sharpened teeth with pride, and his hands are well poised on his hips.

“It’s time for a challenge!”

Although the Prince, the Princess, and even the concubine, look excited, the guardians don’t share the same thrill. Sousuke was afraid of this, of becoming a clown for the Prince’s entertainment. He sighs tired.

The challenge of today is a race by horse, one of the Prince’s favorite it seems, so they all walk to the stable to choose the animal of their preference. Sousuke sees how the rest of the guardians don’t even check the horses’ status, simply selecting randomly without inspecting if the animal is tired, or hungry, or even sick, which strikes Sousuke as weird. The bodyguard would have assumed the military guardians would know how to examine an animal for better performance, but maybe Sousuke over-estimated them. The Prince, obviously, goes for his personal horse; a wonderful golden stallion that shines against the sunlight, it looks healthy, well-fed, and strong. Sousuke goes for a brown one, it also looks healthy and like the stable staff takes well care of. This one could be considered Sousuke’s favorite.

His old job didn’t require him to know how to ride, as he always preferred to work on foot because it’s more silent – unless he had to travel to another city or country, of course – but he still learnt to ride a horse because it’s considered important anyway. The men get on the horses and exit the stable, riding to where the Princess and the concubine are waiting for them in one of the gardens. The Prince is in the head of the group, with Sousuke closely following him behind, and the rest of the guardians at the end of the party.

When they see the group getting closer, the Princess and the concubine clap and howl excitedly, they are sitting in some steps and the blonde stands up to jump a little. The Prince smiles cockily, saluting the pair with a hand like he has already won. The scene amuses Sousuke a little. He can’t help it when his lips try to twist in a smile that he conceals biting his cheek.

The race consists on one lap to the castle’s gardens, all along the walls. It should be done quickly, but it will be enough to maintain the Prince content for a few hours afterwards until he gets bored again. It’s the concubine who marks the start, with a translucent fabric swinging it as a flag.

Running as soon as the cloth is down, the Prince’s golden horse gets immediately ahead of the group, rapid and quickly like the light, with a soaring yell coming from the Prince. Sousuke hastily follows the Prince, prompting his horse to accelerate in order to reach the Prince. To his surprise, the Prince rides really well, with masterful skills and talent. Sousuke is starting to think that perhaps the Prince wins over the guardians not because he is the Prince, but because he is good at winning.

Feeling adrenaline rushing through his heart like a spark starting a burning fire, Sousuke speeds up. His horse quickly is head to head with the Prince’s horse, and the Prince himself actually looks surprised to see Sousuke there, but he smiles nonetheless, showing his sharpened teeth that should be threatening but Sousuke finds himself weirdly hypnotized.

Still, the Son of the Desert doesn’t give Sousuke an easy battle, encouraging the golden horse to hurry up in its pace and of course the bodyguard prompts his own horse.

Before he realizes, both Sousuke and the Prince are racing alone, having left the rest of the guardians behind them long ago. It doesn’t matter to Sousuke, though, because something inside his chest makes his heart vibrate in ecstasy. In no time, they see the starting line again, marked by the same stairs the Princess and the concubine are sitting on. Sousuke decides to accelerate one more time, thinking that the Prince’s horse must be tired from the exhausting race, taking the advantage in the last second before the concubine yells excitedly to end the race.

Sousuke halts his horse, but his heart continues to race, hitting his chest fast with tremendous force, and this time the smile creeping behind his lips is finally freed.

That is, until he remembers he won against the Prince, the Son of the Desert, the Son of the Sultan.

He quickly looks behind, finding the Prince looking at him, but Sousuke feels his breath taken away when he sees the Prince smiling widely. His eyes are shimmering, his skin is bright with a layer of sweat, and the red hair is disheveled in all directions because of the wind.

“That was great, Sousuke!” The Prince congratulates him. It makes feel Sousuke weird. “You are the first one to beat me in a long while!”

Sousuke doesn’t know what to answer to that, but thankfully the rest of the guardians arrive. It’s evident the men didn’t even try to race seriously. The horses don’t look tired at all. Sousuke can only wonder why, although he suspects it’s because the guardians don’t want to risk their heads by winning over the Prince. The notion makes Sousuke frown. While the fact that death is a possibility for winning against the Prince, they should at least pretend for the sake of pride.

“You all should learn from Sousuke!” The Prince says suddenly, still on his horse while the guardians and Sousuke are dismounting, “He actually knows how to ride properly!”

The guardians don’t reply, just bow their heads, but Sousuke can perceive how annoyed they are. The Prince dismounts, and orders the guardians to take the horses back to the stable, sparing Sousuke of the chore as a prize to his winning.

The Princess goes to her brother and they start to talk about something. Sousuke is taking out a little cloth from a pocket of his pants, cleaning off the sweat from his forehead, when the concubine stands next to him, with his huge magenta eyes looking at him intently.

“You won,” the blonde says, as if Sousuke had forgotten, “That’s a first.”

Sousuke doesn’t reply, just looks at the blonde.

“The other guardians always let my Prince win,” the concubine continues, his hands behind his back, “They don’t even try. They have never had.”

So it’s just like Sousuke suspected in the beginning.

“All the people in the palace think my Prince is a bad person, but he isn’t. Well, he kind of was before, but he has changed. I would know. I’m his concubine!”

Sousuke doesn’t really understand why this man is talking to him in the first place, but then the Prince calls for the concubine, and he walks to him not without giving Sousuke a last wink. The concubine starts to shower the Prince in compliments and praising, the Prince responding with a smile to all the flattering.

The day continues as normal. The Prince doesn’t ask for another challenge, seemingly satisfied with the adrenaline of the race, but doesn’t quiet down about how well he and Sousuke rode at it. The Prince studies the gardens one more time, accompanied by the Princess and the concubine, later on they all go to eat, and after that – when the sun is about to set – the concubine excuses himself without reason. The moon is high on the sky when the Princess says her farewells to go to sleep, and the Prince decides it’s about time he also goes to his chamber to rest.

“Today was a good day,” The Prince announces while he and Sousuke are on their way to the his bedroom, “We did a lot.”

Sousuke doesn’t personally think he did a lot today. It actually felt like he was just passing time lazily, compared to what he used to do for a living before.

When they arrive to the Prince’s bedroom, a group of maids are already waiting for him to help him prepare to sleep. The Prince beckons Sousuke inside the chamber, saying something about having to supervise everything until the last minute when he goes to sleep. He once again feels out of place once they are inside and the maids start to undress the Prince, while another few prepare the bath in another room.

The Prince, all naked and shameless, orders Sousuke to follow him to the bathroom. The room smells of fragrant scents, musky and masculine with a touch of citrus, it’s big as everything else in the palace is, with a huge marble bathtub at ground level and a crystal dome as a roof, allowing the moonlight to enter. The water inside the bathtub isn’t transparent; it looks milky and smooth, probably mixed with some kind of liquid to keep the Prince’s skin silky and healthy. The maids soap the Prince’s body, and wash his hair with scented shampoo, but when the Prince steps in the bathtub the staff exits the room leaving Sousuke alone with the Son of the Desert.

Sousuke is standing next to the door, leaving the Prince to himself in the bath, and neither of them says anything to break the silence. The Prince’s skin now shines differently, thanks to the milky water and the moonlight from above, not only that but the red hair shimmers too, wet and heavy, against the Prince’s nape.

The atmosphere is tranquil and quiet, only the calm sounds of the water are heard every now and then when the Prince moves a little. Sousuke finds himself unable to look away from the scene before him. It’s weird to see the Prince like this, so silent and relaxed, it’s anything unlike the wild fire Sousuke witnessed in the morning at the race.

Sousuke yawns.

A knock from the main door distracts him from his stupor, and Sousuke frowns. Who could that be?

“Go open the door, Sousuke,” the Prince orders anyway with a bat of his hand. It should be alright, seeing that the Prince doesn’t find it weird to have a visitor at this hour.

Obeying, Sousuke goes to the main door and opens it just a little, meeting with a pair of magenta eyes.

“Mr. Sousuke!” It’s the concubine before him, a little surprised it seems. Sousuke is able to smell the scent of sweet flowers coming from the blonde’s skin. The little man must have excused himself earlier to go to his chamber and bath. The two guards are just behind him. “Is my Prince ready?”

He doesn’t know what to answer. The Prince haven’t gotten outside from the bath, but Sousuke guesses he doesn’t need clothes for what it’s about to happen. Maybe his face reflects his confusion, because then the concubine laughs a little.

“My Prince is still at the bath, isn’t he?” The blonde asks, and Sousuke simply nods, “I’m here to help him with that, and to sleep here.”

Nodding one more time, Sousuke lets the little man enter the room – the other two guards stand in their place at the sides of the door. The concubine walks directly to the bath, greeting the Prince with a joyful voice full of sunshine, and helps him to get outside the bathtub, drying him off with a white towel and dressing him with a thin bathrobe that the Prince leaves open.

“You can go to your quarters now, Sousuke,” the Prince says, accommodating the bathrobe better on his shoulders, “Tomorrow at the same hour in the morning.”

Sousuke bows, closing his eyes.

“Yes, my Prince.”

Turning around, the royal guardian gets outside the room, closing the door, and walking away to his chamber.

Another day lived, another night to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u for reading!!
> 
> Comments and kudos r always appreciated. I'm rly interested on what u have to say!! Also, hearing from u peeps is always motivating and ecouraging.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!
> 
> You can also find me on my tumblr [AleishaDreams](http:www.aleishadreams.tumblr.com) and my twitter [ActualAleisha](http:www.twitter.com/actualaleisha)


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